


Girls Just Want to Have Fun

by Hatsepsut



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Drunkenness, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Girls' Night Out, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsepsut/pseuds/Hatsepsut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girls' night out for Hawke and the group; Fenris and Hawke have just reconsiled, and sexual tension in the group is at a new all high.<br/>Drinks, girl talk, drunken shenanigans...and a hot elf waiting to drag you home. What else can a girl want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls Just Want to Have Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Womble27](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Womble27).



She heard a loud banging noise, intruding on her relaxed, indulgent slumber. Frowning slightly, she dug her face even more snugly in the warm, resilient flesh underneath her, inhaling his musky, masculine scent with a soft sigh of utter contentment.

A hand shook her shoulder and she raised bleary eyes to meet a sleepy green gaze and a tiny smile.

“Someone is at your door,” Fenris simply said and leaned to kiss her, his lips tender on hers.

Then she heard it again. Bang, bang **,** bang. BANG. Someone was really anxious to see her. She frowned and then her breath caught as Fenris got to his feet and stretched, a sinuous, lithe movement that made his muscles move under his tan skin, the morning light gleaming on the lines of lyrium decorating his lanky frame. Her mouth watered as his buttocks twitched and she instinctively put a hand out to pet him, making him jolt.

“Cute tushie,” she drawled, licking her lips as she had another part of his anatomy revealed when he turned towards her.

“I am glad you are enjoying the show, Hawke,” he bowed his head to her with a slight smile curling his lips. “Aren’t you going to go see who is at the door?”

Bang, Bang, BANG.

She didn’t even pay attention, just tossed the sheet aside and laid back and with a suggestive, seductive look on her face. Holding his eyes, she slowly opened her legs and slid a hand down her folds where she was already wet and glistening for him. She noticed with feminine pride the smile falter on his lips, his eyes darken, and his body respond by instantly hardening.

“Hawke,” he growled menacingly. “We have been locked in here for almost two weeks...Haven’t you had enough yet?”

She eyed his hardening length and licked her lips, making him growl low in his throat.

“Have you?” she breathed, and smiled as his hand came up to curl around his length, stroking himself to the same rhythm she was touching herself.

“You will be the...”

“...death of you, yes, I know. Now get your cute tushie over here, and take me again.”

He smiled as he crawled on all fours on the bed towards her, all sinuous, boneless grace like a big prowling cat and settled his length on top of her, bracing his weight on his forearms. She purred as she ranher fingers over the bulging biceps on his arms and his strong, taut shoulders and then smiled at him as he bent to capture her mouth in a sizzling kiss.

“I have three years of longing for you to make up for, Fenris,” she murmured against his mouth and he smiled ruefully, knowing full well those three years were entirely his fault.

“If we continue...at this pace, Hawke,” he smiled, “we will die of exhaustion, or I’ll get you with child. You _are_ aware of that, aren’t you?”

Her breath caught and her eyes widened, and then a sweet, brilliant smile lit up her face.

“Is that supposed to scare me, love?” she whispered as she kissed him, a soft, adoring kiss, full of hope and acceptance. Her hand came up to cup his cheek in endless tenderness. “I would love to have your babies, Fenris.”

He paled a bit but then smiled too and bent to kiss her just as he was slipping inside her, making her moan and arch beneath him.

He was just about to reply to her, when the door to her room was suddenly banged on so hard that it rattled on its hinges.

“HAWKE!” Aveline’s voice rumbled outside the door. “Are you alive in there?”

Fenris groaned. Hawke slapped a hand on her forehead.

“Aveline!” she screamed at the door as Fenris withdrew from her and hastily pulled on his leather breaches. “I will kill you for this!”

“I told you, Captain Man Hands, Hawke and that hot specimen of an elf were just...blowing off some steam,” Isabela’s amused drawl sounded behind the door. “Or each other.”

“She has disappeared for a week and three days, whore!” Aveline growled. “Her _friends_ are concerned.”

“Hawke!” Isabela just ignored Aveline. “Just tell her that elf is busy banging the Void out of you, no pun intended, and I’ll drag her away.”

Hawke got out of bed on wobbly legs, and moved towards the door, totally naked. Fenris’ eyes widened at the sight; her luscious body was covered in slight bruises where he had grasped her with careless fingers, and suckle marks peppered the delicate skin of her neck and breasts. She had the soft, glowing look of a well-pleased woman despite her aggravation, and her hair would probably take weeks to untangle.

He felt himself hardening again, resenting the thin robe she threw over her body for hiding the signs of his possession, and the breeches he had put on for not letting him breathe with their sudden tightness. He crossed the room to her in three long strides and before she had a chance to turn the knob and open the door to her friends, he pinned her against the cold wood, ripped the robe away from her, and lowered his breaches in one move.

Aveline and Isabela saw the door quiver on its frame, heard Hawke leave a startled yelp and then a deep moan, and watched in awe as the door started shaking rhythmically. Aveline looked at Isabela with a puzzled look and tried for the handle before the pirate grasped her hand and winked.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned Aveline. “He’s having her against the door. You’ll ruin his balance.”

Aveline blushed a deep crimson and cringed as moans and gasps, and screamed choruses of “Fenris!” **,** came from behind the door.

When the wood stopped shaking, she banged on the door once more, and heard a deep, husky voice cursing in Arcanum before Hawke giggled.

“Tonight, at the Tipsy Barmaid, Hawke, at the Docks. Girls only. Be there, or I’ll come drag you out.”

She took a snickering Isabela by the arm and forcefully dragged her away, despite her protests that the show wasn’t over. As she was passing the kitchen, she saw Bodahn and Oranna, and ordered them to get a big breakfast tray to Hawke, and leave it outside the door. She pushed Isabela out on the street and stayed there to make sure she had left and not slipped in the mansion again to harass the couple. Then she made her way with a brisk gait to her modest house next to the Keep’s barracks.

Donnic had the day off today and after what she had just heard...she was suddenly curious to try how strong the door to their bedroom was.

* * *

Isabela sauntered towards their table in the corner of the packed tavern room, squeezing among sweaty male bodies and tossing jibes to people she knew. Aveline raised an eyebrow. She was certain the pirate whore knew more than the names of these men. Much more.

“So, sweetpea,” Isabela leaned down to refill Hawke’s mug with ale, “give us all the spicy details. I want steam coming out of our ears!”

“Maker, no, please, Hawke. I’ve heard enough of your sex life to last me a lifetime,” Aveline mumbled, downing the rest of her ale in one huge gulp and looking away in embarrassment.

Merrill tweeted and sipped some of her ale. “Did I miss something dirty, again? I always miss the dirty details, and nobody seems to want to explain them to me...”

“Oh? What about Varric?” Isabela turned a lewd smile to the petite elf that gave her a perplexed look. “I thought he was...explaining a lot of the dirty details to you the other day.”

“Varric is always willing to exp...oh...that’s not what you mean...I think I caught the dirty innuendo this time,” Merrill blushed charmingly and hid her face in her hands.

Hawke and Aveline both looked at each other and then at the blushing elf with mouths gaping like fish.

“What...?” Hawke’s smile spread slowly, “you and Varric? When did that happen?”

“Some time during the week you were busy draining your elf’s balls dry, Hawke,” Isabela winked at her and Hawke blushed while Aveline bristled.

“Watch your mouth whore! There are ladies present here!”

“I don’t see any ladies, Captain Man Hands,” Isabela countered, totally unfazed. “Don’t tell me you don’t let that strapping guardsman of yours ride you like a pony every now and then, because I won't believe you.”

Aveline clenched her fist menacingly. “My sex life is none of your business, slut.”

“Ohhh....not good, then?” Isabela went on with a fake pitying expression. “Let me give you some advice then, Aveline...If sex is a pain in the ass, you are doing it ALL wrong.”

“I don’t need your advice, whore!” Aveline muttered. “And my...marital relations are more than satisfactory, thank you very much.”

“Pftt! You’re in a tavern, Avie, not in the Chantry...Why can you just say ‘he has a great cock and he bangs me just fine with it’?” Isabela laughed.

“Fine,” Aveline huffed. “He has a great cock and he bangs me just fine with it, happy now? Now can we focus on somebody else? Like Merrill here, and our short, stout friend?”

“Yeah,” Isabela’s attention, which didn’t have an extensive span anyway, turned to Merrill. “Tell us all about it, Kitten. How did short and hairy manage to get in your smalls? And didn’t Bianca throw a hissy fit?”

Merrill took on a somewhat piqued expression. “I like his chest hair, it’s soft and cushy. And being short isn’t really bad, you know. His mouth comes to exactly the right height for...oh. Forget I said that.”

But it was too late. Aveline had already spewed her drink, spraying the table in front of her, and Hawke had toppled over laughing, while Isabela snickered and thumped the Guard Captain’s back to help her regain her breath.

“Oh, Kitten, you just made my week,” she laughed and patted Merrill’s arm, who had blushed a bright crimson.

“Varric is going to kill me,” she whispered, mortified at the intimate details she had unwillingly disclosed.

“Well, he should have been more careful,” Aveline snickered. “After Hard in Hightown, I have every right to a little revenge. _He is going **down**_.”

The four women looked at each other and when the double meaning of the sentence collectively registered, they started laughing again.

“Oh, all the times he’s made fun of me... I’m making him _eat_ his words!” Hawke guffawed, causing another round of wild snickering.

“He certainly is a cunning linguist, isn’t he?” Isabela, offered and Aveline and Hawke had to grasp at each other to avoid falling off their chairs in laughter, while Merrill looked at them with a puzzled look.

“I didn’t get that last one,” she said, and Isabela patted her cheek.

“Don’t worry Kitten. You got the one that counted.” And she turned to the barmaid to order another round of drinks.

* * *

Sebastian and Anders glowered at each other, while Fenris and Varric were engrossed in their game.

“The Chant of Lights clearly states that...” Sebastian leaned towards the blond mage, who huffed and interrupted him.

“Spare me the sermon, Priest. You’ll never convince me.”

“But how can you dismiss the chant like that?” Sebastian’s expression was almost hurt. “You were brought up an Andrastian, weren’t you? Yet you never visit the Chantry, and you live outside Chantry law. I just don’t understand.”

“Going to the Chantry doesn’t make you a good Andrastian,” Anders countered, getting more and more irritated, “just as standing in a stable doesn’t make you a horse.”

“This is a simplistic and idiotic thing to say,” Sebastian scoffed with a regal huff.

“Better idiotic than blinded by overzealous bigotry.”

“I am NOT a bigot,” Sebastian fumed. “Nor am I overzealous.”

Anders folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, really?” he teased the Prince. “When was the last time you tried to see things from somebody else’s point of view? That’s bigotry, Priest.”

“Right now I'm sitting here, looking at you, trying to see things from your point of view but I just _can't_ get my head that far up my arse,” Sebastian huffed.

Anders smiled for just a flicker of a second, before controlling his expression again and raising an eyebrow. Riling each other had become a favourite pastime for the two men.

“Well, I could agree with you, Sebastian, but then we’d both be wrong,” he tossed to the handsome prince.

“Anders, you are entitled to be stupid,” Sebastian had more trouble hiding his smile. “But lately you abuse the privilege.”

Anders’ mouth quirked in a smile. “At least I am stupid by choice. Not by accident of birth.”

Fenris chose that moment to raise his head from his hand, look at the two men and huff irritably.

“Please call a halt to all this bickering. I grow quite weary of it.”

“What he means, in simple words, boys,” Varric piped in, “is: shut the fuck up. You’re busting our balls.”

“Succinctly put,” Fenris smiled.

“Hey, was that a real smile?” Anders brought his hand to his heart on mock shock. “And your face didn’t crack? Whatever did Hawke do to the broody elf we all know and ....” he made a disgusted face, “...ugh...love?”

Varric gave a lewd smile. “Oh, yes, Broody, give us some details. Steamy, if you please. Leave nothing out.”

“I don’t think he did...leave anything _out_ , that is.” Sebastian muttered, pursing his lips not to laugh. “A week and three days... Can she even walk straight?”

Fenris looked to the ex-prince in surprise, and then his eyebrows furrowed over his green eyes. This was Hawke they were talking about, not some tavern wench! But before he had time to put him back into his place, Anders spoke up.

“A very...priestly comment. What exactly are you doing in the Chantry? You could make a fortune at the Rose.”

Sebastian smiled; the cheeky, mischievous smile of a rascal. “I wasn’t always a Brother. As for what I am doing in the Chantry, well, working for the Maker does not pay much, but His retirement plan is out of this world.”

“Oh, ha, ha, har,” Anders drawled sarcastically. “You are SO funny.”

Sebastian shot him a smile and a wink before downing his ale. “If the Maker is indeed watching us, we can at least be entertaining.”

“See? Bigotry...you only remember to be pious when it suits you.”

“You DON’T want me to forget to be pious Anders, trust me on this. I was a holy terror when I was younger...for both women and _men_.” Sebastian shot a meaningful look to Anders, who blushed and turned away.

* * *

“Come, Merrill, have another one,” Isabela pushed a tankard towards the elf, who was already tipsy and giggling at the slightest provocation. The women had already pumped her for information and had managed to learn, amid giggles and snickers, just how good Varric was in bed, his favourite positions and all his ticklish spots. Along with his exact...measurements. Each was hatching plots -with wide, conniving smiles on their faces-on how to use these wonderful little titbits of knowledge to get even with Varric’s constant teasing and probing into their lives.

But suddenly, Isabela turned towards Hawke.

“You never told me, Sweetie...” she drawled. “What colour are the elf’s underwear anyway? I have been trying to guess for ages.”

“He doesn’t wear any. Most pairs are too tight for him,” Hawke replied absentmindedly.

Aveline’s eyes bulged and she swallowed the wrong way. For once more during the same night, Isabela had to punch her on the back to keep her from choking.

“What?” Hawke asked. “He is...large. Hadn’t you guessed? I mean, look at the man’s sword.”

Isabela leaned towards her on the table, licking her lips. “How...large, exactly? ‘ _ohhh, nice, I feel so full_ ’ big, or ‘ _ouch, that hurts, take it out_ ’ big?”

Hawke smiled and a dreamy look got painted on her face. “Almost ouch. The best kind of ouch...” She shifted on her seat and then shot them a lewd smile. “I can handle pain until it hurts.”

Isabela nodded approvingly. “That’s my girl. Ride him raw, Hawke. Suck him dry.”

“ISABELA!” Aveline protested while Hawke and Merrill tittered. “Will you stop being so vulgar all the time?”

“Oh, Aveline...” Isabela sighed. “Will you stop being such a ‘good’ girl all the time? We all know good girls are just bad girls that have never gotten caught. Besides, dicks are like fish. The small ones you throw back. The big ones,” and she held her hands apart, indicating the right size, “you mount!”

“Whore!” Aveline muttered, but with a fond smile on her face.

“Have you stuck your thumb in his ass yet, Avie?” Isabela smiled over the rim of her tankard. “Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

“I did, actually,” Aveline replied and it was Isabela’s turn to spew her drink. “I didn’t regret it, either, you were right.”

“I can give you some other tips, too, if you like...”

“Well,” Aveline shrugged. “Donnic rather insists.”

Hawke was laughing so hard by then, that she failed to notice that Merrill had gotten up and was now starting to sway and dance to the slow music in the tavern. Claps started echoing around them, and before long, the three women, all drunk to various degrees, had gotten up and joined Merrill.

A dwarf in the corner slipped out and run to the Hanged Man when Merrill hopped on the table under approving whistles and catcalls and ...lost her top.

* * *

Varric and Fenris had finished their game, and had joined Sebastian and Anders by the fire, each holding a tankard of the Hanged Man’s best ale- which still wasn’t very good- in their hands. Fenris had been mercilessly teased by his three companions, but he was so relaxed and in such a good mood after his reconciliation with Hawke that he took it all in stride, good naturedly, or as good naturedly as was possible for him. He still gave a threatening growl whenever he thought the comments were offensive to Hawke, or when the questions became...too intimate.

Sebastian was asking him if there were wedding plans in the future, and Fenris had a startled, panicked look on his face, when a dwarf burst in, went straight to Varric and leaned in to whisper something.

Varric’s eyes shot wide.

“What do you mean, she is dancing topless on the table?” he growled and shot up. “Merrill? MY Merrill, dancing topless in a tavern full of drunk sailors? Where were her friends?”

“YOUR Merrill?” Anders gasped. “You dirty dog! You’ve been shagging the blood mage!”

Varric cut him off with an impatient gesture and motioned to the other dwarf to answer his question.

The messenger cowered under Varric’s flinty gaze, but answered anyway.

“They are drunk too, Serah Varric, and dancing. On the table. But when I left only the elf was...topless.”

Varric swore luridly and gave the dwarf some coins and a pat on the back. “Thank you Durn,” he said. “Keep following her, and tell me if she is ever in trouble again.”

When Durn left, Varric exchanged a look with Fenris and retrieved Bianca. Anders fell silent, while Sebastian was still too shocked to speak, but Fenris had tensed up and was wound like a coil too. Suddenly the other two men realised what had gotten Varric and Fenris so riled; their women were dancing, half naked, drunk, in a tavern full of randy men.

“Are you coming?” he addressed the elf.

Fenris’ lip curled in a frown. “Maker help her, if she’s naked I will spank her till her ass is black and blue,” he muttered and wearing a dark expression on his face he gestured to Varric to proceed.

And they left.

Sebastian and Anders sat there, looking at each other, stunned.

Anders cleared his throat after a while.

“Do you really think he will spank her?" Anders asked, absentmindedly.

"What do you care?" Sebastian downed the rest of his ale, his eyes still on the door where the two men had disappeared.

"Justice disapproves."

Sebastian bit his lip. “It would be his right. I mean, the Chantry says that when a man and a woman are joined, the man has the right to...”

"Oh, put a sock in it."  
  
They fumed at each other for a while, before Anders again muttered a hesitant question.

“Should we go too?” He suggested to the Prince, squirming on his seat uncomfortably. “You know, just to make sure the girls are okay. I mean, they both seemed very angry, maybe we should ...go and make sure they don’t ...you know. Really hurt them. You understand, Justice wouldn’t approve."

Sebastian bit his lip again. "And the Chantry DOES stress the importance of mercy..."

"We really shouldn’t, though..." Anders loosened his robes’ neck, suddenly feeling hot and bothered. “It’s not our place to...”

"Yes, yes. But....spanking?" Sebastian blushed.

"Maker, yes. Spanking."

They looked at each other for a few short moments and Sebastian gave Anders a naughty, lewd smile.

"I know a short cut.”

"Right behind you."

* * *

Despite the shortcut, when Sebastian and Anders reached the Drunken Barmaid the whole commotion had already ended. Varric and Fenris had been right to have been worried. Apparently, a group of sailors had gotten the wrong message and gotten a bit handsy, grasping Merrill and Hawke and trying to get them to sit at their table. A fight had erupted, and the men had arrived right at the opportune moment, as Aveline and Isabela, although not as drunk as the mages, had been in no position to fight also.

Anders watched out of the corner of his eye as Varric hefted Merrill over his shoulder, cursing at the height of elves, and without saying a word, started for the Hanged Man. A smile crossed his face and his concentration wavered for a moment when he saw Merrill pinch Varric’s backside, giggling like a little girl; Aveline, whom he was healing, hissed in warning. With a long suffering sigh, the dwarf disappeared in the dark.

Anders’ eyes met Sebastian’s, a questioning look in them, and the Prince smiled and nodded towards a side alley. A deep, throaty baritone could be heard muttering in a low, angry tone, berating Hawke for her foolishness.

They heard her giggle. “Oh, shut up and kiss me,” she purred. “I missed your mouth...”

Sebastian’s smile grew wider, while Anders averted his eyes, embarrassed, as they all heard the elf moan and then they heard a startled yelp and the slap of a hand against tender flesh, once, twice, three times. But it wasn’t cries of pain they heard Hawke give but moans and gasps, and they snickered, while Isabela hooted.

“I hope he has taken off his gauntlets,” Aveline muttered, as red in the face as her hair, while the sound of slaps continued mingling with Hawke’s sounds of pleasure.

“I don’t think she would mind...” Isabela laughed. “He could take a paddle to her ass and she’d probably enjoy it.”

Fenris emerged with a dazed Hawke thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The small group fell completely silent under his murderous, flinty gaze, and none of them dared comment as he passed in front of them.

Except Isabela, who, as he was drawing further away, shouted, “I know what colour your underwear is.”

Fenris’ gait faltered, but he didn’t turn back.

“I don’t wear any,” he replied and kept moving.

“Skin colour,” Isabela shouted. “I was right.”

* * *

Bodhan jumped a foot in the air and then just stood there looking at them with wide eyes as Fenris kicked the door closed behind him and made his way past the stunned servant with Hawke still on his shoulder, a smouldering, murderously angry look on his face.

Sandal cried “Enchantment!” and she just giggled, dazed and still more than tipsy, and wiggled her fingers to Bodhan who had gone as red as a tomato, as Fenris crossed the mansion towards the door with determined strides and two to the stairs two by two, her weight not even troubling him. He kicked the door to her room twice, once to open it and once to slam it shut, before tossing her on the bed.

She giggled again, fanning his rage even more and came up on all fours, her hair falling over her eyes. She settled on her knees, tossed her hair back and despite the murderous rage she could see vibrating his body she giggled again, Maker, she dared giggle, when all he wanted to do was strangle her for her stupidity.

“Fenris...” she breathed and reached out a hand to him, smiling sweetly, her eyes dazed with alcohol and desire and he felt his anger subside. Maker, he could not resist her. What was wrong with him?

He climbed on the bed and started undressing her with tender, careful fingers, sighing as the fear and the panic that had caused his rage started to subside. His heart had frozen with fear when he had stepped into that tavern to see a bunch of drunken sailors grabbing her, and her fighting them off frantically. His anger had taken the best of him in that dark alley and he had actually spanked her, spanked her for the sake of the Maker, with all their companions listening on. He shuddered in shame. He would never hear the end of it.

She leaned on to him, burying her head on his shoulder and sighing contently when his hands run over her body, checking for injuries. Both cheeks of her luscious ass were red and burning and he run an affectionate hand over them, soothing the tender flesh he had abused, feeling both shame and lust flood him at the memory of how she had moaned in enjoyment. Hmmm...maybe they should do this again. Without the anger this time.

She murmured something intelligible against the hollow of his neck and he pulled back to look at her. She was almost asleep, the alcohol and the excitement of the day finally catching up with her, and he smiled at her sleepy face, and kissed her eyebrow.

“You frightened me, minx,” he whispered. “Don’t ever do this to me again.”

She giggled again and mumbled, “I love you, Fenris,” before her eyes closed and her breath evened out.

Fenris laid her back and pulled the covers over her, before bending down to kiss her. She had a small smile on her lips, even in slumber, and he felt his heart huge and tender in his chest, gazingat her with a look she would have died to see.

“I love you too, Marian. Sleep, my heart,” he whispered and sighed.

Soon, he would find the courage to tell her the words to her face.

* * *

Isabela sauntered towards the Hanged Man, snickering to herself. Aveline had been retrieved by her worried husband, and by the angry looks he was giving her as he supported her back to their place, she was willing to bet Hawke wouldn’t be the only one to receive a spanking today.

Anders and Sebastian, surprisingly, had left together. Maker, the tension among these two was thick enough to cut with a knife. Who could have imagined it? But stranger things were known to happen, she smiled to herself, and wondered if these two would ever get over their inhibitions to actually see what they felt for each other. Hmmm....maybe she could suggest a threesome. _That_ was a nice visual.

She knocked on Varric’s door and the dwarf opened, his shirt half undone, his hair dishevelled.

“Thank the Paragons,” he muttered and dragged her in, “she has been retching for hours, Rivaini, and in between she just grabs at me! This is your doing, now come in here and help me with her!”

Isabela laughed and dug her heels in, resisting him.

“Oh, no, Serah HotStuff! No way. She is yours, you are welcome to her.” And she managed to evade his grasp and then slip out the door.

“I know,” she shouted playfully. “Why don’t you give her one of your ...tongue baths, the ones you do so well? Or play the blood mage and her dwarven thrall? I hear you’re pretty good at that.”

Varric’s eyes shot wide and then he frowned. “She told you about that? I’ll kill her!”

Isabela laughed and wiggled her fingers at him before disappearing in her room. Three spankings in the foreseeable future. Oh, goody. The next time the girls all went out, only she would be able to sit down.

She sighed as she got undressed and ready for bed.

If only she could find someone to spank her too. Shoot, life wasn’t fair.

* * *

Hawke woke up with a splitting headache. She moaned and immediately, long, supple fingers tangled in her hair to rub at her temples. She sighed and relaxed, moaning in relief.

“Fenris...” she whispered, and a low rumble answered her as he growled in her hair, spooning her from behind. She immediately felt her body respond, despite her headache, and her body arched into his.

She yelped as her ass stung as it came into contact with his hard hips, and then she blushed when the events from last night flooded into her mind in a rush. He...he had spanked her last night. And she had loved it.

A hand smoothed over her ass and he mumbled an apology, before he slid down her body, his hot mouth following her spine and making her tingle. He settled his mouth on the hollow of her back and started laying gentle kisses all over her still red ass, soothing the ache, and creating another one in other areas. She moaned and he chuckled, his tongue cooling the heated skin, taking the sting away.

“Does your head ache too much?” he asked and she had barely breathed “no” before he turned her around and mounted her, slipping inside her like he belonged inside her, fitting perfectly despite his impressive size, as if her hot womanly core had been made especially for him.

He groaned and started moving inside her, the unbearably hot and tight fit making his head spin with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up to him moaning his name, whispering how good he felt, how much she had missed him, making his blood rush even hotter, his excitement mount.

They rocked languidly, peacefully together, limbs entwined, lips locked in tender, passionate kisses, until their excitement reached a point where they had to go faster, where the fire burning them up could no longer be denied.

They came together, Hawke gasping his name, her body rippling, and Fenris shuddering above her as he emptied his seed inside her, releasing his essence into her welcoming heat.

As they lay replete in the aftermath, struggling to regain their breaths, he bent his head, kissed her and whispered “I love you.”

 

The end.

 

 

 


End file.
